


Back Again

by GoringWriting



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury Recovery, Pre-Relationship, Swimming, The Weeping Monk | Lancelot-Centric (Cursed), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:01:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoringWriting/pseuds/GoringWriting
Summary: A hunt for food for the camp turns into trouble when Lancelot is turned into a younger version of himself. Now Gawain has to keep an eye on a man turned child who doesn't remember anything.Silverfish in the Discord came up with the idea of age regression I just wrote it.
Relationships: Gawain | The Green Knight & Squirrel | Percival & The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed), Gawain | The Green Knight & The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Back Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silverfishy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfishy/gifts).



Gawain leans against the tree listening to the steady release of arrows as Lancelot fires them at animals in the bushes no one can see but he can smell. No one had expected him to be such a skilled hunter of animals though they should have. Given how well he tracked fey.

"Are you going to assist in the hunt?" Lancelot asks and Gawain opens his eyes to smile at the fey.

"You seem to have it well in hand Ashman. I'm just observing," Gawain says.

"To make sure I don't revert back to being a paladin," Lancelot tacks on and Gawain straightens up.

"All fey are brothers, I told you that. Even the lost ones."

"Except most fey wish the lost one had stayed lost," Lancelot says.

"Did someone say something to you?"

"They wouldn't dare. Half of them are convinced I'll kill them in their sleep and the other half clutch their children tight when I walk past," the fey says.

"Lancelot..."

"I said nothing. It's no less than I deserve. They are right to hate me," Lancelot says and storms off into the bushes to gather the animals.

Gawain picks up the abandoned bow and follows after him at a distance knowing the other man won't want to be crowded right now. And he likely won't talk the rest of the day.

He barely speaks on a good day.

Gawain is picking his way over a log just as he heard a sword being drawn. Gawain immediately moves in the direction of Lancelot and freezes to take in the situation. Lancelot is standing in a meadow. Sword drawn being circled by... leaves? 

"Do not be afraid. We merely wish to help you Lancelot. To heal something that is broken," a female voice says and the leaves circle him faster.

"Nothing is broken!"

Lancelot swings his sword at them and they easily dodge out of the way. The air around then begins to buzz and light shines on him before becoming blinding. 

When Gawain can see again Lancelot is gone...or...no there's his clothes in a pile and something lumpy inside of them.

Gawain rushes over and looks through the pile. Gawain stares at the small child curled up there. 

The same marks as Lancelot around his eyes and the pale skin of the Ash Fey. 

It takes Gawain a few moments to put together what happened even if it seems to be obvious.

"Oh dear," Gawain says and wraps the warrior turned child in his cloak, stuffs the rest of Lancelot's belongings in the bag and lifts the boy into his arms.

The walk into their small encampment is awkward at best mortifying at worst. But at least Lancelot sleeps through it.

"Gawain? What's with the child?" Pym asks, moving away from where she was collecting water from the well with Arthur and Gawain shows them Lancelot's face.

"That's not...It can't be...can it?" Arthur asks as shocked as Gawain bets he himself was.

"It is. I saw it happen. There was magic involved. Magic like I've never seen. I need to speak with Merlin. But I need someone to watch the boy..."

"Who's that?" Squirrel demands appearing from nowhere as only he can. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Tell me. Please! Please!"

"It's Lancelot! He's been deaged by magic and is younger than even you," Gawain snaps and feels all eyes turn to the boy in his arms who is stirring. Gawain's sees everyone's eyes widen as the boy's eyes open.

Gawain barely has a chance to suck in a breath before the boy is kicking him in the face and dropping to the ground.

"Grab him!" Arthur shouts and lurches forwards the boy but Lancelot is apparently ridiculously fast and dodges him easily.

"Everyone stop!" Gawain says and they all freeze. Including Lancelot, well except for his fluttering chest and anxious eyes.

"Give him space," Pym says and they all take a step back.

"Who are you?" Lancelot asks.

"Gawain, and this is Arthur, Percival, and Squirrel," Gawain says and they wait for him to introduce himself.

"And you?" Arthur asks when it becomes clear that the boy isn't going to say anything.

"Damned. They call me damned or Demon Born," Lancelot says.

"Those aren't names. They're insults. What was the name your parents gave you?"

"It doesn't matter. Father Carden gave me those names. He is my parent now. Why am I here?" 

"You were rescued by some of our hunters. Are you hurt?" Gawain asks and the boy stares down at his hands then back up at Gawain.

"Where are they?" The man turned boy asks, worry etching along his brow.

It's not a look that belongs in a child's face.

"Where's what?" Arthur is the one brave enough to ask. Gawain's not sure he's ready for the answer.

"The marks...from my punishment. Father Carden punished me last night before bed. But my hands aren't marked. They should be but they're not," the boy says.

"You were healed by magic," Gawain says.

"Undo it! Father Carden will be upset if he finds out."

"He won't. He's not coming back. You're safe with us now," Gawain says.

"But are you safe with me?" Lancelot asks softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm useful to him. He's not going to let me go so easily. Last time..." Lancelot cuts himself off.

"Last time what?" Gawain asks. He's aware that there are others listening but right now he needs answers. 

"I've said too much."

"You're safe here. We won't all any harm to come to you," Gawain asks and Lancelot sniffs the air gently.

"The reason for my punishment. I escaped and ran away to a fey village. Father Carden found me... He made me...he made me..." The boy says and he's shaking and Gawain is frightened to see tears sliding down his face.

"It's alright. You can tell us," Gawain says, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"He made me kill them. He gathered them up and took my hand and put the knife in it and..." Lancelot cuts off when Gawain kneels and pulls him into his arms.

"Shhh it's okay. You are not to blame. The fault lies with the Paladins."

"I shouldn't have run. I knew they would find me. If I had stated those people would still be alive," Lancelot sobs into Gawain's shoulder.

"No. He never should have started killing Fey. We did nothing to him and yet he hunts us and hurts children because they are fey and they are useful." Gawain says.

"Where am I? Why won't you tell me?"

"You are at our camp. You can trust us. All Fey are brothers. Even the lost ones," Gawain says.

"I'm too lost to ever be found. You must let me go," Lancelot says.

"No. We are your family now Lancelot," Gawain says and grunts as a hit lands on his neck and he crumples and sees Lancelot run.

"Grab a few people we need to find him," Gawain says and goes into the tent he shares with Lancelot and Percival... something isn't right. The area beneath his bed is too dark. 

Gawain sighs and sits on Lancelot's bed staring at where the boy is hiding under Gawain's own bed.

"Why are you hiding in here little one?" Gawain asks.

"I smell me here. But not me. I smell safe and happy with a bit of sadness here. I like smelling me feeling safe. It's a nice smell. Like home," Lancelot says.

"And why that bed?"

"The scent makes me feel safest."

"Oh."

"I...am I safe?"

"As safe as anyone could ever be. We defend each other. We've done pretty good if I can brag."

"You knew my name... how?" 

"You said it in your sleep."

"You're lying. I can smell it. Did Father Carden send you to test me? To see if I am still loyal to the fey?"

"No. But you're already upset. The truth is upsetting and I don't know all the answers."

"Am I in danger here?"

"No."

"I want to believe you," Lancelot says, crawling out and sitting on Gawain's bed, hands in his lap.

"I won't promise you. There are still Paladins out there and they still attack us. But I will promise that they will never get their hands on you again. You can believe that," Gawaine says.

"You...you smell truthful...thank you." Lancelot says.

"Find something of Squirrels that doesn't stink. I doubt you want to be in that large tunic for much longer," Gawain says and turns to give his friend privacy.

"You can look now," the boy says and Gawain turns and his heart clenches. The clothes belonged to Squirrel when he was younger. They'd be too short on him now. But the pants are baggy in the boy in front of him and help up by a belt that Gawain knows belongs to himself.

"Good. Now, I need to have a talk with some of the elders to see if they can answer a question about something that happened in the woods. Do you want to stay with Arthur, the man-blood that was out there or you can stay in here if you promise not to run off again," Gawain says.

"I promise not to run off again." Lancelot says. Gawain will make sure to take Squirrel with him. To make sure the more wild child doesn't convince this one to get up to mischief.

"If you need anything. Or feel in danger, or afraid, call for Pym. She was the woman out there. Her tent is close enough to hear you and you can trust her," Gawain says and makes the boy promise before going to gather the elders.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"You said the lights appeared and they said they would heal him?" One of the Tusk elders says squinting at him and Gawain sighs. He's already gone through the story five times.

"Yes. And then there was a light," he says.

"They could have been Vilia. Earth spirits that appear as water, earth or air which would explain the leaves. They are healers but I didn't know they could reduce the age of someone," the elder says.

"But why the Monk? He was not injured yet they said he was to be healed?"

"Perhaps we should ask what the conversation before their involvement was about," a snake clan member says.

"We were just discussing his settlement here and how he is treated," Gawain says.

"He is being treated as he deserves. He is lucky we allowed him to live," a faun elder murmurs.

"No." A voice says and they all turn to look at Percival who is standing there shaking a bit. 

"Squirrel..."

"Can any of us say that as children we wouldn't be taken and molded but the paladins? That pain and fear and suffering wouldn't break us down until we were too messed up inside to do anything but obey? I'd like to say that I wouldn't that I would resist...but the truth is, none of us can say what we would do because it didn't happen to us. But it happened to him. It happened to him because unlike any of us when he was captured no one came to his rescue. The only reason he lives is his ability. Otherwise he would be dead. We all know that. We've all seen that," Squirrel says and he sounds so much older than his ten summers.

"The boy has a point," one of the few moon folk that actually lives as near the camp as they are willing to get pipes up.

"What?" The Tusk elder says.

"We are so used to seeing the man of our nightmares that we forget about the boy that lived them. You have never met an Ash Folk before. They were as secretive as my own people are. There was only one village of them. Only one. They are not nomadic and they don't wander from home. Oftentimes there will be several generations of a family line living in that village. They are incredibly resilient and long lived. They don't die and they are difficult to burn hence their name. Their skin simply turns to ash. To burn one to death would take days. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the last one. And he was a boy and likely watched his village burn. His whole clan burned at too young of an age to even know what was happening. Only to be taken by their murderers. I said they were resilient. That boy didn't break easily but he did. If an Ash Folk couldn't withstand them. I doubt anyone could."

The others at the table look uncomfortable at that but before they can say anything else there's a scream from outside. It sounds like a girl. They run out and Gawian's steadily growing headache becomes worse when he sees what caused the screaming.

There's a little Faun girl, covered in dye and the newest weaver, a Tusk, a newly arrived resident looming up with a leather belt in his hand. Between the two, shielding the girl is Lancelot who already seems to have a few welts in his arm. The girl looks scared but unharmed and it's not hard to guess why.

Lancelot did always have a soft spot for children.

"What is going on here?" Gawain demands, the man drops the belt and turns to them and Lancelot turns to help the girl.

"The boy pushed her into a vat of dye. I was just disciplining him," the Tusk says.

"With violence?" Pym asks having already stormed out of her tent.

"That is how children learn."

"No it's not. Not that I believe you anyway. Lancelot won't even shove Gawain when he's being a protective lovesick idiot. He's certainly not going to shove a child."

"Who are you going to believe? Me or the Weeping Monk?" The Tusk says and on a good day they would likely be having a likely debate based on testimony.

Today is not a good day. Gawain can see some of the adults in the camp nodding.

"He's lying!" The girl shouts and everyone freezes. 

"Why don't you tell us what happened." 

"I was playing and my brother dared me to tip the dye vat. So I did but he didn't come to watch. When the weaver saw me he tried to hit me and this boy got between us," she says.

"Lancelot, is this what happened?"

"I only saw him trying to hurt her. I didn't know why." Lancelot says from where he's checking the girl for injuries.

"Arthur...do you want to deal with this? I need to get Lancelot treated," Gawain says and carries both children, Lancelot is not happy, to Pym's tent.

"Thank you for saving me," the girl says when she's cleared to return home. Lancelot gets some paste on his welts and bandages before Gawain is dropping him back into bed. The boy is exhausted and Gawain doesn't blame him.

When he returns to the council tent he finds the moon folk elder looking smug.

"They finally see who the boy truly is. And they see what most have happened to make him into a man." He says cryptically.

Gawain feels like his brain has turned to mud but when the wind picks up he tenses.

"Do not be alarmed, Green Knight. We do not wish to cause harm. We are the Vilia, spirits of healing."

"Why did you do that to Lancelot? He was not injured," Gawain asks.

"An injury does not always have to be of the blood or flesh. Sometimes it is in the relationship between people. The Fey are already hurting. They do not need to be hurting each other as well. But the only way was for you to be reminded of the scared fey boy before the Weeping Monk.” They say as one. 

“How do I fix it?” Gawain asks. 

“It is not for you to fix Green Knight. The spell will end tonight when the moonlight first hits his skin. For now...show him what being a child is supposed to be like, it’s been a long time since he was able to be a child,” The spirits say and the leaves settle once more unto the ground. 

“Well then Squirrel, looks like we’re going to take Lancelot on a bit of an adventure,” Gawain says and trusts the boy to follow him out. 

"What sort of adventure?" Squirrel asks.

"Swimming. It's a warm day and Lancelot enjoys the water. His brow is significantly less wrinkled when he's in the water," Gawain says.

"But what if he hasn't been taught to swim yet?"

"Then you and I get to teach him," Gawain says and grabs two of his older shirts from the floor, too small for him but excellent swimming clothes for the boys and one shirt he keeps for himself for swimming. He also grabs Lancelot’s normal attire for when he changes back. 

"Lancelot, would you like to come swimming with us? If you don't know how we can teach you," Squirrel asks, jumping on the younger boy's bed...well Gawain's bed that Lancelot has claimed.

“I would like that,” he says and climbs off the bed and follows silently behind them Squirrel fills the silence talking about how he wants to learn to hunt like the older Fey do, how he hates learning his letters, and how he hates the chores he has and Gawain smiles as he sees Lancelot start to relax his tense posture. He’s looking a bit more like an awkward child than a traumatized one, which is good. 

At least Gawain hopes it's good.

"Do you know how to swim?"

"Yes sir. I was taught," Lancelot says a small smile on his face so he must have been taught by someone other than the Paladins. 

Thank The Hidden.

Gawain is glad to see that the same relaxing effect water has on the older version is even more applicable to the younger Lancelot. 

Lancelot's face is bright and open after slipping into the water from where he changed into the shirt.

He's a bit less pale than his older self, and there's just a hint of muscle. They must not have started training him yet. 

Gawain wonders how old he was when they started. Then pushes the thought from his mind. What's done is done. But Gawain can give Lancelot one moment of being a child. One peaceful day swimming.

"Am I going to be able to stay," Lancelot asks suddenly and Gawain nearly jumps.

"Of course. You can stay as long as you want. Your place will always be with the fey," Gawain says and he's not just talking to the child, but also the man who will soon be back.

"Do you promise? I don't want to be alone again," he says.

"I promise that you will always have me and Squirrel. You won't be alone again," Gawain says when Squirrel nods. He's grown as attached to the quiet fey as much as Gawain had.

They play for several more hours and then the sun starts to go down and Gawain sighs.

"Lancelot, I have to tell you something. A spell was put on you. It's a harmless one but it will wear off in the moonlight and I don't want you to be startled."

"Do you promise it won't hurt me?"

"I don't know. But I promise I'll be right here with you," Gawain says and when the moonlight lands in Lancelot's skin he starts to glow like he had earlier.

The glow fades and Lancelot, now an adult, is asleep on the grass. When Gawain approaches he stirs a bit before opening his eyes. 

“What happened? Where are we? How is it night?” Lancelot asks, putting his tunic on and snapping buckles into place on his armor. 

“Those leaves were spirits, and they decided to turn you back into a child for the day. You were just changed back,” Gawain says and Lancelot stares at him as the three of them make their way back to the camp. 

“I was turned into a child? By spirits? Why don’t I remember it? Why did they do it?” Lancelot demands. 

“Yes. Yes. I don’t know. To heal relationships between the fey,” Gawain says as they walk into camp.

"I don't mean to question the spirits but...I don't believe it can ever be fixed in regards to me," Lancelot says and as they walk in the little girl he had saved comes running over.

Lancelot looks more shocked than anyone when she throws herself into his arms.

"I don't know Ashman. I'm inclined to believe the spirits in this matter," Gawain says.

Lancelot looks up at him then at the girl and a small smile graces his face.

It's not perfect but it's a start.


End file.
